Enough
by EvelynBass
Summary: He's Chuck Bass. She's Blair Waldorf. And they're epic. They fight and break and bite...but in the end they're just Chuck and Blair. C/B
1. Enough

**A/N: ****Just a little one shot inspired by one of my all time favourite scenes.**

**Enough**

She pretends to be mad as she storms into her Marie Antoinette inspired bedroom. "What are you doing here, Chuck?" She doesn't really care what his doing here. Her heart screams _He's here. _But she pretends, anyhow.

He lifts his head. His eyes find hers. He looks like crap. She sees the emptiness in his eyes. It scares her, but she rushes to his side...because he needs her.

It breaks her apart. Seeing him like this. So scattered and broken. He doesn't really show it...because he's Chuck Bass...she sees it anyway...because she's Blair Waldorf.

She puts her arms around him, holding him together, clumsily in her tiny arms. He leans his head against her small shoulder. He doesn't cry, just breaths raggedly, desperately trying to break past the pain in his chest. His hand clutches her arm, because it's the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

She closes her eyes to keep the tears from slipping out...they do. She turns her head, resting her forehead against his. That unique smell so very much _him_ fills her nose. Sandalwood and coffee. She can't help herself, she breaths those three words into his ear. They're barely a whisper, but-this time- their enough. He finally gives in. He finally let's her help him. Let's her love him. The voice in her head screams, this is just temporary. She drowns it...even if she knows it's true. It has to be true, because he's Chuck and she's Blair. And they're epic.

His arms wrap around her waist, pulling her painfully close. Her hands find themselves intertwined in his dark hair. Their hearts beat as one, the breath as one...they morn as one. For if he hurt...so does she.

She stays awake until he falls asleep. The agony slowly disappears from his handsome face as he sinks in to the sweet abyss of fatigue, but the loss stays imbedded in the fine lines on the corners of his mouth. She closes her eyes, swallowing the ach in her chest.

He's gone when she wakes up. A note left on his pillow. It doesn't surprise her, but her heart starts hurting, nonetheless.

He left her.

Tears form silver lines across her cheeks as she reads the words scribbled in his messy handwriting.

Her phone beeps. She grabs at it. Maybe it's him, just maybe. It isn't.

_Chuck Bass isn't the only one who lost somebody recently..._O, no. Please no..._ condolences, Ms. Waldorf._

The phone slips from her finger, forgotten on her bed.

She stumbles towards the bathroom. Needing to get rid of the loathing in her gut, she falls on her knees. Her hair is a mess as she wretches over the toilet. Her soul breaks with every sob. Her heart crumbles with every tear.

She'll never be enough. He'll always leave, because she'll never be enough.

**Just a little teaser. If people actually like this I might make this a collection of one shots.**

**Lots of love**

**E.B**


	2. Creature

**Creature**

There are hundreds of them. Withering, churning creatures of the night. They whisper in his ear, pull on his hand, leading him down a path he's not willing to take, but walks down anyway. They brush up against him. Their voices to loud, the music not loud enough. Their perfume overwhelming...to sweet, not sweet enough.

_Not enough_.

He takes another swallow from the tumbler in his hands. Hoping to drown the noises, the smells... _the aches._

_Not enough._

Cyrus Rose. The tiny man with the pity in his eye. The tiny, big man with a world of knowledge in his voice as he stands on the top of the staircase, looking down at the rugged, broken boy – man - sneaking out.

"_Running won't help, Son."_

He keeps walking, needing to stop at the metal doors of the elevator. Metal doors...like bars. Keeping him trapped, forcing him to listen to the wise man.

"_I'm not your son."_

"_She loves you."_

_Silence._

"_I'm not enough"_

_The bars open, showing him the light...this one might lead to the dark. He steps into the inferno._

Arthur is there, waiting as always, opening limo doors, helping drunkards –caused by alcohol or bitchy brunets- stumble into plush leather seats.

"Victrola." 

Thank God for the city that never sleeps.

They welcome him with open arms, with greedy sneers on too red lips. They embrace him in arms clinking with gold bands. Because he's one of them.

A creature of the night.

He sits in his usual spot, surrounded by woman others would find breathtaking...to him they seem too bright, to amply breasted and too...loud.

His eyes follow the flowing movements of the dancer on stage, but he does not see her. He's watching a completely different dance on a very different night.

He can still smell her on his skin. Hear her voice in his ears.

"_I love you."_

The music isn't loud enough to drown out her words, the air isn't sweet enough to make him forget _her_ ...he isn't enough to be with her.

He pushes their legs of his, enabling him to get up, to seek escape. He walks thru his club, his pride, formally his joy, but not tonight. Tonight the colours are too bright, the red to overwhelming. He pushes his way into a deserted dressing room behind the stage. It's covered in dust, feather boas, and skimpy outfits. And masks. They line the walls, staring at him thru empty eyes, mocking him with big sneers and smirks resembling his own infamous one.

He drowns it all out by lighting a joint. By dragging the mind numbing smoke into his lungs, waiting for the moment the drug reaches his brain via his bloodstream.

It doesn't take long. A few deep drags and he's at home base. His eyes shut on their own accord. The once overly loud music becomes a backdrop to his current state. The masks seem less ominous and more vibrant.

"_Welcome..."_

They seem to whisper, they seem to snicker as they watch him. Their hallow, eyeless sockets seem to follow him towards the door. They see who he truly is, what he truly is.

"_... prince of the night."_

Of darkness and deception.

She is an angel, dresses in white , left slumbering in an empty bed with a simple note as a thank you and an open door to a future he can never be enough for.

**A/N : Okay , I have no idea what the hell this was. But I like it anyway. If you don't. Say so , but if you do...please review. I know I should be updating RS and I will soon. **

**Lots of Love**

**EB**

xoxo


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